


The Nymph's Cloak

by Clara_Siey



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Touching, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Sleep Sex, Smut, Teasing, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Siey/pseuds/Clara_Siey
Summary: After the innocent villagers' death, Prince Canute couldn't sleep. Adding up to his troubles, Askeladd sent his drunk bodyguard to his temporary shelter as he goes to talk with Ragnar.
Relationships: Canute/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	The Nymph's Cloak

The cold light of the twilight sky soon left a silver strip of light in between the snowy horizon and star decorated skies. It had been snowing for several days now and the majority of the paths they took were too covered in snow to even identify themselves as paths, but of course, Askeladd’s band is composed of stone hard warriors who have traveled from sea to sea, pillaging villages and killing thousands of men. So a snow storm and deep snow banks are only that of an ant’s bite for them, although complaints were often present.

After the whole village massacre, the Norsemen shrugged it off like the clusters of snowflakes on their cloaks that evening and took temporary residence in the houses of the villagers they’ve murdered. They drank, ate and took surviving women as their evening toys before killing them off… like typical Norse warriors.

Thorfinn on the other hand, didn’t care that much. He had seen bloodbaths being orchestrated right in front of him and sometimes — he alone can carry out massacres similar to what he had witnessed a few days ago. He remained composed and quiet and wore his everlasting annoyed pout, but he did find Ragnar’s protests noisy, the priest’s warning call unnecessary and the prince’s quiet and unreadable countenance quite new — but still undeniably pretty.

He always wondered if Askeladd’s band were saying the truth, whether Prince Canute is the reincarnation of Freyja herself or a river nymph in disguise due to his steely blue eyes, but then again, Thorfinn doesn’t believe in any deities.

The middle aged men cried in the chieftain's house with their merry-making noises, laughing, telling stories and arm wrestlings and many more. Despite the sharp hymns of the wind outside, Thorfinn, Son of Thors, decided to lay back on stacks of wood behind the house of the chieftain and sharpen his many knives, only having the protection of his ragged cloak against the treacherous wind. Such conditions never bothered him, he’s used to the cold, used of being alone and know the procedures of sharpening his knives. 

“Thorfinn, boy!” He heard his enemy’s right hand man, Bjorn, calling him from a nearby window. The young warrior was not in the mood to reply, but it just became his second nature to oblige to whatever who calls him in this band. “Tch,” He clicked his tongue before hiding his knives in his cloak. “What the fuck do you want?” He marched towards the direction of his caller. The snow wasn’t too high in this area, but given Thorfinn’s height, it’s a little complicated.

“Askeladd’s order, hurry.” Bjorn said with an unusual smile and pointed at the entrance to the young man. Thorfinn followed, opened the wooden door to see the drunken faces of the bastards before him and in between a group of men, laughing and talking on a round table, he saw Askeladd waving his hand. “Thorfinn, here!” The boy’s brows knitted at the happy appearance of the older warrior, his face irritated him so much that he could slit his throat on the spot with his freshly sharpened weapons.

“What do you want?” Said the warrior. “Argh! Close the door, lad! It’s cold!” Askeladd whined and so Thorfinn did. “Here,” the leader of the band slammed a jug of alcohol on the table. “You’re old enough to drink, right? Now drink many of this and we’ll see how much of a man you are.” He laughed together with the others. Some of the men surrounding the young warrior urged him, some invited him to leave Askeladd and drink with them, but neither of the offers appealed to Thorfinn. He just clicked his tongue and shifted his foot to take his leave until he heard Askeladd’s ‘other’ offer. “I’ll duel with you tomorrow.” He said with a mischievous grin and like any other times before, Askeladd knows that this has always been the card to make Thorfinn do his bidding. Soon, Thorfinn obliges and sat on the wooden bench next to Askeladd, giving him death glares whenever he has the chance. 

“Okay, okay! Enough with the unspoken threats, drink this.” The older man laughed and showed the young one the many barrels of alcohol if a single pitcher was not enough for him. “If you pass out, the duel’s off.” Askeladd grinned and Son of Thors clicked his tongue at his audacity. “These are just alcohol,” He thought. “I’ve been drinking alcohol since and does this son of a bitch think I’ll pass out over these bitter-tasting drink?”

—————

Askeladd… was surprised.

His men would’ve been drunk dead after 15 full swigs of this kind of booze, but the young lad took 25 to 30 full swigs before dropping his drink and completely passing out. “The kid’s pretty strong, huh? Askeladd?” Bjorn laughed, his feet up on the table and helmet on his stomach. “If you ever had a son, he would just like be Thorfinn, aye?” He continued.

Askeladd doesn’t know how to reply to this, because the talk of family matters never occurred to him, marrying or even bearing and raising a child seems to be too troubling for a man who belongs in the battlefield. The only person Askeladd truly cared for was his dear mother, now peacefully rested in her homeland. The leader of the band laughed and seeing the peaceful and reddened face of the young warrior resting on his lap made him think of what it would be like if he ever had a son. Would he be like Thorfinn?  
He just fixed the lad’s cloak to properly cover him and laughed, placing his scarred palm on the boy’s head. “We will never know.”

Thorfinn, in his sleep, felt a hand rustling his matted hair in a soothing manner.

—————

The Icelandic kid woke up pissed.

Learning that he passed out and that the duel was off, he also woke up with an order to guard the princess again because the cone-headed asshole wanted to talk to Askeladd. 

“Guard His Highness. This is an order, no whining.” Thorfinn, still raw from the effects of the alcohol, clicked his tongue once Askeladd left the house. Bjorn and the others said something and gave him remarks for spending another night with the princess, but he ignored them as he took his knives and filled his leather container with another load of alcohol which — intimidated some of the men.

The young warrior ventured out to approach the prince’s temporary shelter with shaky legs and hazy vision. The cold wind was merely an inconvenience for Thorfinn now that the alcohol was fueling his body temperature to be stronger five-fold against the chilling wind, although he can’t ignore the fact that it is burning him from the inside. 

After a few stumbles and eye scratches to restart his vision, he finally reached the royal’s doorstep. He didn’t even knock, but just said, “It’s me.” Canute, who had been restless since the night of the villagers' death, hasn’t fallen into his slumber yet. He hasn’t been sleeping ever since that fateful night and would just spend time staring at the once lively, now dying embers of the firewood. The young warrior’s voice snapped him out of his trance and he scurried to open the door with the relief of security, only to have Thorfinn fall on the hard stoned floor.

“Thorfinn!” Canute panicked, holding the shorter lad in his arms, fearing that he might’ve been injured. His worries soon faded when he smelled the stench of poor quality booze from the warrior’s mouth. “The knave’s drunk.” He thought, finally calming himself down after the small panic he felt.

For the prince’s slender build, Thorfinn was heavy. Carrying him was too much of a task for Canute so he ended up dragging him to his make-shift bed which was covered in soft fur and fabric. The taller male closed the door and locked it to cease the chilling wind and its threats before returning to tend the fire.

Canute can’t ignore the strong scent of the alcohol as he increased the heat of the firewood, resurrecting the warmth that had died a while ago. He knew that these Norsemen would still have a lively feast after constructing a whole massacre, but he never really thought that Thorfinn would join them. Thorfinn had been guarding Canute for days, but his bodyguard never really showed enthusiasm with his fellow warriors — which would baffle the prince from time to time.

The young prince heard a rustling behind him and saw his bodyguard sitting up straight just to open his leather flask to take a long swig. He wonders how the lad can take a long drink of that kind of alcohol? He assumes that the taste was nothing compared to the intricate ones he had back in court. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Said by Canute’s bodyguard and it just sank in him that he’d been giving Thorfinn weird and inappropriate looks. All of his blood rushed up to his face and he immediately returned his attention to the flame he was tending to. His pale skin was now dusted with a rosy color and he was grateful for his long golden hair that it covers the majority of his exposed skin, away from Thorfinn’s sight because he is certain that the young Norse warrior would make fun of him again — and that’s something he, a Danish prince, can’t simply allow. 

Thorfinn, Son of Thors, has been someone Canute took interest in. He’s a quiet warrior unlike his fellow bandmates. He had seen him fight and his stances are different from the typical sword-clashing technique most men would go for, Thorfinn depends on agility, precision and vital points and its success rate are mostly high. Canute also took note of how Thorfinn urged him to speak once again and after that… he can’t take his eyes off of him.

After a moment of silence, which made the prince nervous (because Thorfinn dislikes silent treatment as his answer), the shorter one went back to sleep. After hearing the rustling of the fabric and the deep and stable breathing behind the prince, Canute slowly turned to face his drunken companion. He finally realized that Thorfinn’s snow-covered cloak was soiling the fabric Ragnar dutifully looked for in order to keep His Highness warm and Canute cannot disrespect his caretaker’s effort and offer. 

“It is incredibly rude to dirty the belongings of someone else’s.” Canute thought that this is one of the few things he can do to honor the butchered souls of the innocent — by keeping their belongings clean and respected.

He went to Thorfinn’s side to wake him up in order to take off his dirty cloak, but no matter how strong Canute jolt him, he would just reply with a grunt and continue his sleep with steady breaths. After failed attempts at waking his bodyguard, Canute finally admitted to himself that he’s not even strong enough to wake an intoxicated lad of 18 winters old, so he took matters into his own hands, quite literally.

Thorfinn was on his side, facing away the prince, head prompted on his biceps as he take deep steady breaths. Canute couldn’t place it well, but after days with him, he hasn’t seen Thorfinn sleep like this. So peaceful and undisturbed, he was almost envious that he’s having more contented sleep than him. The prince dismissed his thought and struggled to take off the boy’s cloak.

Every now and then, Thorfinn would get annoyed by the prince’s struggles above him. He knew that he’s trying to take off his cloak, but he’s too drunk to even comprehend the situation going on in his space. Canute was having a hard time untying the cloak, really he was. He was struggling so much that he was starting to pity himself at his very own display. Thorfinn was shorter than him and came from a common family and he, Prince Canute, was the son of King Sweyn of England, but here he is… weaker than a small gentle woodbeast. Although, despite his shame, he knew he was weaker than usual because of his lack of sleep.

The booze in Thorfinn’s hands was still open and Canute can’t help but to succumb in his desire of peaceful night’s sleep. He took it from smaller, battle-scarred hands and blocked his nose before taking 2 half swigs. It was awful, bitter and incorrectly brewed, making Prince Canute cough behind his palm, but despite the distasteful feeling in his mouth, it was certainly strong. 

The prince continued his job of untying the cloak and thanks be to God, Thorfinn changed his position and laid on his back. Canute gave a sigh of relief and undid the knots, now his only problem was pulling the dirty fabric from beneath the boy. 

He attempted lifting Thorfinn’s body, but he was too heavy for the prince’s dainty hands. He tried pulling the cloak but he immediately stopped when he heard a ripping sound below. He wouldn’t want the Norse warrior to freeze to death because of his ripped cloak and soon, Canute gave up trying. He sat on his regular spot and eyed the strong flames once again, seeing how the subtle flicker of embers dance reminded him of the stories his brother would tell him, about nymphs and enchanted creatures in the far woodlands.

There’s no hope for his little bodyguard. What’s the use of Askeladd’s order of guarding the prince when strong pulls can’t even wake him up?

He took the leather flask again and took a long drink. He coughed up the awful flavor like how he did earlier, but thankful for its effect. He gave Thorfinn another look and the prince winced at the sight of the boy’s dirty cloak on the clean and soft fabrics beneath him. He knew that he had to do something.

He got up in a crouching position to lift up Thorfinn’s right shoulder so he can tuck the right side of the cloak in order to pull it from the opposite direction, but as he was doing so he noticed something.

The young warrior’s body was well-built. Just from the hardness against the prince’s palms, he can feel the strong and firm muscles perfected from years of battle and dagger-wielding. Canute knows that having these kinds of physical prowess was normal for anyone who have stood their ground in years of battle and Thorfinn was not different from them. 

This is not the first time he had seen a man’s robust physique, but it was indeed his first time touching one. He knew that the invasion of privacy of one’s space is incredibly rude, but he can’t help but run his fingers from Thorfinn’s arm to his shoulder and his firm hard chests. Canute can’t help but explore the hard plains of his stomach and inexcusable heat soon manifested under the prince’s skin. He knew that he was no longer envious of the sleeping warrior, he’s now filled with desire to run his hands on exposed skin.

“No!” The prince’s mind yelled in protest. “It is a sin to touch someone erotically, moreso not yet blessed to wed!” His rational mind spoke, following with, “After all, we’re both men.” He felt such grave sin on his shoulders and it wouldn’t be erased until he confess and repent for it. He’s going to recite the Lord’s Prayer until he passes out of exhaustion later just to wash off the guilt in his palms, but no matter how much he tried, he can’t keep his hands away from the addicting feeling of the alcohol and the sleeping boy next to him. He really… can’t just keep his hands to himself.

Succumbing to his craving, he reached out to touch the neck of the warrior. It was rough and smooth to the touch, he can’t explain it but nevertheless, it felt like he’s touching a holy ground, and the heat in the prince’s body traveled south when Thorfinn grunted and lifted his head, revealing the exposed skin Canute was craving for a while now. His Royal Highness’ heartbeat punched his ribcage violently and his length underneath his loose pants was beginning to throb. Prince Canute can’t help it and soon found his royal mouth against the neck of a lowly commoner. His soft, pinkish lips landed soft and gentle kisses on Thorfinn’s neck and he intake the scent of alcohol, musk and rain water. Even if it’s not the sweetest aroma he had smelled, it certainly was addicting.

Thorfinn, in his sleep, couldn’t place it properly. He was certain that something was on his neck and that it was crawling around, leaving wet and cold tracks on his skin, but at the same time, he does not think that it was an insect. The delicate touches on his neck was so foreign yet heavenly and long petite fingers were exploring his torso in such a manner that does nothing but ignite invisible flames in his skin.

Such sensation distributed heat everywhere in his body, adding more of a reddened glow to his already flushed skin, but what’s dangerous is that… such touches were hardening his cock and he wishes nothing for this dream-like sensation to wrap its fingers around his length.

Canute’s inner turmoil with his faith became a blur in the back of his head, similar to the dirty cloak he was supposed to take care of. After leaving invisible marks on Thorfinn’s neck, His Highness raised his head with few strands of his pale hair still in between his plump lips which were glistening with sweat and saliva. He was having a hard time indulging in his late night meal with his odd position (just beside Thorfinn’s upper body), until a long swig of alcohol made him climb onto Thorfinn and straddle on his hips. 

The prince was eager to touch the man beneath him and he wishes for the confidence to undo his belt, but he knew that those actions were incorrect. By God, what he’s currently doing right now was incorrect but he’s too far gone with lust written on his face.

The atmosphere was getting hotter and no, it’s not from the fire, it’s the after effects of the alcohol and its combination with the prince’s adolescent urges. Canute brushed his silky blonde hair and flipped it to the middle and he started undoing the laces of his tunic to allow his skin to breathe.

He continued his task of pleasuring himself by pleasuring the man underneath him, returning to attack weak spots on his collarbone, his neck and his ears and when he twirled his tongue on Thorfinn’s earlobe, His Royal Highness received a treacherous reply that made him throb even more.

Canute admitted that the alcohol was strong, but he was not intoxicated by the foul-flavored drink, he was addicted to Thorfinn. He soon found his lips latched to his warrior’s chapped mouth. The young warrior’s lips twitched at the sudden contact, almost scaring Canute away, but he continued despite the warning lights in his mind. The young Danish prince continued his mouth’s work and soon allowed his tongue to explore more.

“Mhh…” Thorfinn moaned under Canute’s sweet kisses and the young prince almost withdrew but when he saw his warrior’s erratic breathing and lewd expression, he was encouraged to fall deeper.

—————

Thorfinn knew he was drunk, but he’s too full of pride to even admit to himself that he got wasted. The alcohol was still strong, so strong that he can’t even lift his eyelids even if his mind was slowly emerging from the aftermath of the odd dream he just had.

He usually doesn’t have the luxury of a good night's sleep because of his naturally-alert state, but if he does fall into a deep sleep, he’d often dream about home. His everyday chores in Iceland, the smile of his lovely sister and dear mother, and the caring hands of his beloved father… but such peaceful dreams would often be sabotaged by invisible archers, soon turning his solace into a nightmare, but this time was different.

He didn’t dream of his family, but the delicate touches of a nymph or a goddess. Kisses that ignited his skin with painful pleasure and soft scratches of nails that made his groin throb with need. The breath of the nymph against his skin was the definition of elegance and grace, but he can’t brush away the cold air it also brought. The kiss was the most enthralling thing he’d ever felt in his life. He smelled rose water, lavender and many more herbs near riverbanks.

The whole dream was quiet, unreadable and new… but undeniably pretty.

So pretty that he can’t help but see the face of the spoiled Danish prince pleasuring him.

He was able to pull himself away from the deep clutches of his dream and soon found his way into the world of reality. Although in the real world, he could hear soft moans and high quiet cries, a repeating momentum of a wet and hard object against his calloused hands, the vertical rocking motion of his body and the throbbing pressure on his length.

Thorfinn opened his eyes, thinking that Askeladd’s band forced another slave woman on him for laughs and giggles, but he slowly gained composure. The slave girl had silky blonde hair framing her face, her skin was glistening with sweat and few golden strands were attached to the girl’s pale pinkish skin. She was wearing nothing but a tunic, undergarments were probably tossed to the side because her white soft thighs were exposed to the firewood’s amber light.

Thorfinn was about to shove the girl and tell her to fuck off, but he soon gained full control of his consciousness to realize that the girl’s penis was being rubbed up and down against his scarred hands.

The nymph he was dreaming of was the Danish prince.

The young warrior was at a loss for words, he was paralyzed by the alluring performance happening on top of him. His heart was caught up in his throat when he witnessed the graceful entanglement of His Highness’ fingers around his hand to meet his ideal pressure on the prince's length.  
All this time he was asleep, Prince Canute had been using his hand to pleasure himself — and he’s missing out.

The prince’s eyes were shut tight in the whole process because the sensation was just otherworldly. He’d already taken off his pants ever since Thorfinn’s hand caressed his hips, now he’s just donning his belted dark aquamarine tunic and the seeping cold wind from outside made every hair on his body stand, adding to the feeling enveloping his cock.

“What are you doing with my hand, princess?” Thorfinn teasingly asked with a smirk and Canute’s heartbeat rushed, causing him to peel open his eyelids to reveal the young Norse warrior underneath him. His arm under his head as a make-shift pillow, a triumphant smirk written on his face with his brown irises eyeing the prince’s very being.

Canute’s already flushed skin became redder like a tomato. He immediately released his hold from the battle-scarred hand of the man below him, he was about to stand up, pick up his pants, his cloak and leave this forsaken house to wash away his embarrassment, but Thorfinn caught the prince by gripping the base of cock and loud moan spilled out of the prince’s lips.

The charming expression the prince just displayed made Thorfinn want more of him. He forced the prince to align his uncovered buttocks on his throbbing length as he sat up straight with his free right hand supporting his upper body weight. He began to pump the prince’s shaft harder and Thorfinn became more addicted to the sound Prince Canute was making.

“You want this, huh?” He whispered next to the Canute’s ear as he was struggling to remove Thorfinn’s strong hand movements from his member. “N-no! Let go!” The prince whined and tried to stand up, but the young Norse warrior pushed him down with his free hand, adding more pleasurable pain on the Thorfinn's shaft. 

Thorfinn grunted with a smile, enjoying the soft skin against his clothed hips. “Why is the Danish prince doing this on a cold winter night, huh?” He continued, pumping the prince harder who lost strength to even remove a single finger from his throbbing dick. “Y-you were just…” The shy Canute began with his quivering lips. “... you were just so enticing and I could not — ah! — help myself…” 

Thorfinn had to admit — that confession turned him on even more. With the way Prince Canute said it with moist pinkish lips, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth and his half-lidded blue eyes so alluring, Thorfinn will cease this one time opportunity.

Thorfinn let go of the prince’s member and Canute was partly relieved and disappointed that he had released him, but only to be laid down on the cloak he was trying to get rid off from the start. The Norse warrior handled him with care, even he was surprised that he was able to display such gentleness. He brushed some of Canute’s hair away from his face and lowered himself.

“It’s getting hot in here.” Thorfinn said in a whisper, and took off the many layers of his top, only leaving his pants and boots. Canute sucked in his breath seeing the warrior’s exposed skin. It was filled with odd discoloration, scars, scabs and some were still in need of treatment and bandages, but what caught him was the strong build of the man now sitting on his heaving chest.

“You were enjoying yourself, aren’t ya? As a Danish royal, I thought you had more dignity in you to stop yourself from doing that, but I was wrong. I think you’re more confident than you look.” Thorfinn teased, almost putting shame on the reddened face of the cautious prince. The young warrior was certain that he felt his heart skipped a bit when the prince looked up to him under his long golden lashes and he can’t ignore the fact that he’s lucky to even get this close to the prince — let alone him initiating the first move.

The prince did not say a single word, but just closed his eyes. Thorfinn, who was busy reading the sudden change of the prince’s expression, was caught off guard when his hips were pushed against Canute’s face. Thorfinn was once again reminded about his throbbing erection when Canute licked him through the damn fabric of his pants.

The young warrior smiled at the persuasion of the prince and allowed his length to sprung free from his pants and Canute made an adorable squeaking sound when he witnessed its velvety shine. Thorfinn bit his lips from the ecstatic feeling when Canute roamed his tongue around him and to reciprocate the action, Thorfinn leaned back to reach Canute’s genitals. Canute, who was busy tasting the young Norse, thought that Thorfinn will continue to pleasure him when he felt his two fingers flicked his tip. 

“Ah!” The prince yelped when he felt a finger enter him and he involuntarily raised his hips at Thorfinn’s intrusion. Canute’s face reddened at the sudden noise he made, he sounded like a woman being deflowered. This type of procedure was common among women and he had heard countless stories of men’s intercourse experience and some even used a male slave for themselves.

“Can you feel that? Your asshole is sucking my finger in.” Thorfinn teased and continued his agenda. Canute continued his task, but he got a better reply from his partner when he devoured his penis all the way down to his throat. “Guh!” Thorfinn moaned, not forgetting the momentum of his busy finger inside the prince. “That was intense, Your Highness.” 

He smiled and brushed away the golden curtain off of Canute’s sweaty forehead. 

The prince bobbed his head up and down and this made Thorfinn’s mind leave him. “Your warm mouth feels so good.” He moaned and he pulled his finger out of the prince’s hole to lather it with his saliva, but he was stopped when he saw Canute’s blue eyes looking at him with such an erotic expression while he was devouring his entire length. "Hm — fhnn…" Canute moaned, seemingly calling the man whose cock was inside his mouth. Thorfinn felt a sudden heat gather in his hips, so powerful and relieving and it soon overflowed within him. 

“Cum— get off, princess!” He wanted to pull out from Canute’s mouth but the prince refused and continued moving his tongue against his throbbing cock until he released his load inside His Highness’s throat. The young warrior’s mind was filled with white pleasure and his cock was still rock hard when he pulled out of the prince’s mouth, still pulsing with want. 

Canute’s breathing remained erratic and he can’t quite place it but he thought he also came when he felt his bodyguard’s hard member released its fluids in his throat. He can’t think clearly anymore and the only things in his head were lust and Thorfinn. And he won’t be ashamed if he had to beg on his knees for more.

The viking went to Canute’s hips and the mere sight of having a man between his legs made his heart beat so much as if it was his very existence. “Now, princess, up you go!” He pushed back Canute’s legs by the knee to reveal his uncovered bottom and his still erect cock. “Wha — what are you going to do?” Prince Canute asked in a begging whisper with hooded eyes and hands on his chest.

“I’m going to enter you.” His partner just said it so casually that it made His Highness giggle.The sudden sound stopped Thorfinn’s task, making him look at the genuine expression of happiness on the Danish prince’s countenance. Canute’s face was so wholesome, kind and gentle… the whole opposite of Thorfinn’s appearance and yet, here he was, receiving such a look from a royal after he fucked and came in his mouth (not to mention the thin drool of his fluid coming out from the corners of his lips). Instead of focusing on the task of loosening up his entrance, he also wanted to pleasure himself. He climbed up on Canute’s chest and allowed his legs to tangle themselves around his toned body. The close distance of their faces were too much to bear for the prince, so he placed his eyes everywhere but not directly on the warrior before him. His heart was beating so fast that he was certain that Thorfinn could hear and feel it. Why can’t he just prepare him normally? Far away from his face? Why is he even looking at him like that? Why — 

“You were kissing me earlier, right?” Thorfinn asked and it was filled with so many unnamed emotions that even he himself can’t look straight into the eyes of the prince, fearing that his ocean blue eyes would drown him. “Uhm, y-yes… I was.” He was ashamed, he really was. He did everything in his sleep without consent and he’s even undeserving of the reciprocated action. “... I — I apologize for the foul act, I —”

“Can you kiss me again?” Their eyes finally locked on each other and for some odd reason, both of them felt something deeper than skin on skin pleasure. Canute was the one who broke their deepening gazes and the sudden act made Thorfinn nervous. 

For the first time in his life again, he felt scared — and it wasn't even physical threat, it just came from the prince's averted gaze. He had slept with women before, because it was Askeladd's order, saying that it's important for a man of 18 winters to have intercourse to remain robust and nimble. 

He didn't fully agree with it, but with his limited experience, he never felt this way before. He never wanted to hold a slave girl tightly in his arms, or kiss her or —  
He was cut off of his thoughts when a pair of pale slender fingers cupped his cheeks and pulled him into the kiss he was overthinking of. After a long contact, Canute unlatched his lips from Thorfinn's and gave him the genuine smile that captivated the young viking, the same face he showed when the first snowflake of the season fell on the prince's pinkish palm.

"Argh!" Thorfinn whined and buried his face in the crook of Canute's swan-like neck. "Wh — wha — !" The prince panicked at the sudden outrage of his bodyguard, but little did he know that Thorfinn, who was hiding his flushed face from the prince, had lathered his two fingers to meet the prince's entrance. “Oh…” The prince exhaled a soft and ecstatic moan and it encouraged Thorfinn to continue his motions. “Do you like that?” The young Norse man exhaled next to Canute’s ear and he replied with vigorous and enthusiastic nod, pulling in Thorfinn for a needy and sloppy kiss and his warrior obliged.

He continued his finger work until he was able to slip and slide out of Canute without difficulty and the prince was becoming more and more excited on what will enter him next. His tiny whine was almost begging, but he sucked in his breath when he heard Thorfinn asked, “You ready, princess?” Canute answered with a soft ‘yes’ and his mind left him when his partner entered him.

His hold on Thorfinn’s neck tightened, his back arched, his head snapped back, his eyes wide and a silent scream came out of his mouth. The shorter male began to move and Canute winced at the pain and pleasure the movement brought inside him. “It hurts…” Canute whimpered and Thorfinn was almost consumed by an unknown guilt and pulled out halfway only to be stopped by the Danish prince. “I did not tell you to… stop.” Canute received a sly smile from his partner and a chaste kiss on the lips. “As you wish, Your Highness.” 

Friction after friction, Thorfinn would often take swigs of alcohol to give him enough energy. Canute’s top was already discarded somewhere and the smooth plains of his body was eye-candy for the shorter male. The prince’s cries became more high-pitched, filled with want and told Thorfinn that it was starting to feel good. Of course, Thorfinn, who was at the prime and peak of raging hormones, can be easily excited even with the tiniest requests of his partner. 

Prince Canute’s face was so alluring, almost looking like a concubine in painful pleasure. Thorfinn latched his lips with Canute’s and his little experience with kissing came in handy. He would change position to allow his partner’s tongue to intertwine with his, but it seems that multitasking in this situation wasn’t Thorfinn’s best feature. He was too busy pleasuring the both of them with his thrusts that Canute took his tongue’s task. 

“Your cock feels so good… inside me — ah!” The taller one would moan next to Thorfinn’s ear. He pulled most of his length out Canute’s body only to ram it back inside which made Danish prince tremble with overwhelming pleasure. Thorfinn continued with that pace for a while and everytime he pushes himself back in, hitting a certain area would make Canute’s eyes roll back with loud cries, begging for release. “What a lewd body you have, Your Highness!” Thorfinn teased with a laugh, snaking his hands up to Canute’s pale chest to tease his nipples. The prince moaned a loud cry of lust and his senses thinned out when Thorfinn’s mouth licked and bit his slender neck. The warrior’s love bites were full with ferocious lust, he would sink his teeth too deep, suck too hard and Canute’s chest and base of the neck would later be full of Thorfinn’s territorial marks.

The young lad quickened his thrusts and gripped the base of the prince’s penis. “ — What?!” The taller and fairer one protested. “ — let me cum — Thorfinn! Ahh…” He begged and begged. “You have to wait for me,” The shorter one smirked. “And I’ll hit the same spot over and over again until you can’t stand anymore.” For Canute’s ears, it was more like lustful coaxing than any other threat. 

Can Prince Canute be blamed for this? He doesn’t think so, but he would still ask for his Father’s forgiveness. “Lord, save me…”

Thorfinn continued on and on and Canute had been begging for so many times now, he was trembling, drooling and pretty tears were already staining his golden lashes and the warrior can’t help but admire them and hold on for a little long, but such a shame that Thorfinn soon succumbed to his desires of sexual relief. A tremor ran throughout his body and his pace quickened more so than usual. He finally released the prince from his grip and the overwhelming pleasure within Canute’s hips soon unearthed and it was so intense that he had to bury his face in Thorfinn’s neck. 

Hot white liquid squirted out of the prince’s tip, so strong that it reached his chin. It was thicker and plentier than usual, but he wasn’t done just yet — because, even after ejaculating, his warrior partner kept hitting his weak spot over and over again. For Thorfinn, his dick throbbed, heat pooled below his abdomen and it was so overwhelming he doesn’t know what to do, but to lie on his back and allow the prince to sit on his length, gravity pulling his ass for the warrior’s shaft to go even deeper. 

“Oh… Ah!” The prince moaned at the hard thrusts of the man beneath him and later on, Thorfinn’s hard muscles tensed and his fingernails dug into the prince’s soft and smooth buttocks. “Ah… Canute!” The name rolled off his tongue and the prince felt butterflies in his stomach when he heard his warrior breathe out his name for the first time. White hot liquid came out of the warrior before the thought of pulling out and the prince had his second orgasm without even touching himself.

Thorfinn’s fluids were much thicker and plentier than he last remembered and he was afraid that it might give the prince a bad stomach, but looking at Canute, he seems to be enjoying the warm liquid inside his ass.

Thorfinn and Canute with their ragged breaths, fully spent, laid together. Thorfinn was so intoxicated with both the alcohol and the man above him, he brushed away the golden curtain covering his partner’s face. When the prince’s visage was uncovered, a smile greeted Thorfinn’s exhausted state and with that, they gave each other a quick kiss on the lips.

“My warrior.” 

“My prince.”

Before long, Canute realized that Thorfinn had passed out from all of the alcohol he drank. The leather flask was already empty, but the cloak Canute was originally disturbed about took all of the bodily fluids they spent together, covering the soft fabrics beneath them.

Even with the warrior, peacefully laying on his lap, he knew that their actions were unforgivable, let alone in their situation. Who knew what would happen if Askeladd discovered their relationship? Would Ragnar approve? They were both men and that was against his religion, Father Willibald will be furious if he, a royal, disrespects the church’s law. He’s from a royal family and when you’re the son of a powerful man, you have a lot of fortune, but bear greater misfortunes.

———— 

Thorfinn opened his eyes and saw a wooden roof covered with hay and a comfortable warm ambiance filled his vision. He doesn't quite remember all of the events that happened last night, but he was indeed glad that he didn't collapse in the snow as he was stumbling to get to the prince's shelter because of Askeladd's damn orders.

"You are finally awake." Said by the familiar male voice. Thorfinn looked to his right and saw the prince sitting up, tending the fire. He had his long blonde hair tied, revealing his swan-like neck, and he wore the same dark teal tunic he saw last night. Even before the young Norse warrior could ask what happened, Prince Canute spoke with a steady tone. "Ragnar wanted to come and talk with Askeladd and the he promised that he shall send you over to guard me, but you entered barely able to walk properly."

Thorfinn felt an embarrassed flush crept up to his face. "That fucking Askeladd coaxed me into drinking that foul-tasting beer for a duel." He finally admitted as he sat up straight. He noticed the fabric he was laying on, it was clean, covered with furs and fabrics and smelled like the spoiled Danish prince, he smell like the spoiled Danish prince.

And it all came back to him. The kisses, Canute's erotic expressions, his touches, the looks and the genuine aftermath. Their sexual intercourse. 

Did all of those really happen? Did he lay and exchanged bodily fluids with Prince Canute last night? Curse his drunken state, he can't even solidify the line between a dream and reality! He was still wearing his clothes, they weren't soiled or anything and the same goes for Canute! His leather flask still has the same weight the last time he took a swig. 

"Err — Did you and I —!" Thorfinn began with quaking voice, following Canute's figure with his eyes as he rummage through the closet for spices. "Did something… happened last night?" He asked, still quite unnerved at the realistic dream he had. Canute sighed and extended his arm to reach the higher shelf and finally got the sack of herbs he was looking for. "The only thing that happened last night was the unnecessary trouble you gave me for pulling out your dirty cloak beneath you when you passed out," Prince Canute said as he took the stored knives from the wooden drawers. 

He had the chopping board and cups in his right hand and to Thorfinn's surprise, the prince held four different knives in between his fingers with a single swift before putting them on the wooden table. "And afterwards, I just slept. I do not remember when Ragnar came in." The prince finished. 

And with that, Thorfinn's assumptions were verified, he was just dreaming of a lovely nymph exchanging body heat with him in this room. Although, he can tell that the dream was indeed realistic, he can't shove away the fact that something odd happened between him and the prince the night before. 

But who was he kidding? He was too drunk. 

"Why must you ask?" Asked Canute quietly. Thorfinn didn't know how to answer exactly, he can't just say that "I think you and I had sex yesterday," to the prince of Denmark, and he's already pissed off that his duel with Askeladd got canceled because he passed out. 

He just scratched his head and clicked his tongue, eyeing the fire in front of him with little spark of embers dancing around. "Nothing, I just… dreamt of a nymph." Thorfinn said. There are other factors why he's pissed and that's the fact that his night with the prince wasn't real and the touches and kisses were all in his head. It may be odd why he's so greatly disappointed at the realistic dream, but he had (if he were to admit) countless fantasies where he had touched the prince. 

Thorfinn just clicked his tongue, got up to his feet and took his cloak which — smelled like Prince Canute as if it belonged to him in the first place. "I'm going hunting." He said and left the prince's company. 

The prince of Denmark, on the other hand, sighed. "What is wrong with that knave? And what kind of performance was he expecting last night?" He murmured under his breath. When Thorfinn's presence was no longer felt, Canute sat on a chair for a peaceful reflection. 

But it's not something peaceful when you're suffering from lower back pain and, "Ooh!" He suddenly spilled a high-pitched yelp when something warm oozed out of his hole. 

—————

On his way to the forest, Thorfinn had his leather flask tied around his belt. Having no source of water nearby, he had to resort to the awful-taste of this god-forsaken booze. Just from imagining its taste, he can't help but get irritated and click his tongue. Once he uncorked the lid, he realized that it wasn't alcohol inside, but water.

Someone placed water inside just to replicate the weight of the flask that Thorfinn remembers before he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy my first AO3 fanfic and yes, the very first fanfic I've ever written in my life is s m u t. I just want to write a Thornute fanfic where they're vulnerable against their raging hormones, Canute being adorably lewd and Thorfinn talking dirty and being fluffy. They may or may not be out of character, but I do hope you enjoyed it, guys, and let me know what you think!


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